


Pounding on the Walls

by fracturedvaels



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-16
Updated: 2015-06-16
Packaged: 2018-04-04 14:52:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4141914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fracturedvaels/pseuds/fracturedvaels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Carver is a sassy little bastard, and Blackwall is beyond interested in him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pounding on the Walls

Carver Hawke was a mouthy little bitch. Blackwall _hated_ mouthy little bitches.

Oh, Carver was nice enough. So pretty to look at – high cheek bones, lovely ass, and great hair. _Great_ hair. Were he a lesser man, a weaker man, Blackwall would’ve snipped a piece for a locket. It was long,  though not as long as Nathaniel’s, and most of it was secured by a small piece of string to keep it out of his eyes.

And the first thing Blackwall did when he got Carver alone in a disused office was grab a handful of that hair in his hand.

He reached up with the other, taking Carver’s chin in hand and forcing the disrespectful youth to look him in the eyes. There was something there – a strength, a defiance, lovely and _infuriating_. Blackwall had never met the Champion of Kirkwall, but he’d read _Tales_ and regardless of how much Carver denied it there was something of his brother in him. Maybe it was just in the Hawke blood to be a disrespectful, annoying piece of shit.

Not that Blackwall was really complaining right now.

“Such pretty hair,” he said easily, rubbing his fingers on Carver’s scalp.

Carver licked his lip and said, “That’s because I tend to wash mine. With shampoo, usually.”

“Oh, is that right?” If he weren’t so damned lovely, Blackwall wouldn’t slapped the smirk off the kid’s face. “Seems like a waste of time to me.”

“Bathing in general seems to be a waste of your time, judging by the smell.” Blackwall’s grip tightened. The hiss Carver let out wasn’t lost on him. “Maybe you should try it sometime.”

“And why would I go do a thing like that? Why would _you_?”

Carver grinned. “Because I’m worth it.”

“Typical. Pretty bitches like you always like to get trussed up.” He twists his fingers harder into Carver’s hair, pulling his head back, forcing him onto his knees with an uncomfortably painful yank. Then he pushes Carver’s head forward, forces the younger Warden’s face against his crotch. “You know exactly what happens now, dog. Go on. Good dogs follow orders.”

To his surprise, the younger man follows the order. His fingers - pretty fingers, long fingers, good for wrapping around thick shafts - loosen the ties on Blackwall’s pants and pull his his still-soft cock free. It’s methodical, clinical almost, and Blackwall’s sure he’s doing it that way on purpose.

To his surprise, Carver looks up at him, through his pretty, pretty eyes. Everything about the kid is so pretty in the most celestial way, it’s striking; he licks his lips, closes his mouth, licks them again. When he leans forward his tongue is out first, just a bit, and it slides along the underside of Blackwall’s prick as his lips slowly part to take the older man into his mouth.

It’s not immediately euphoric, but it _is_ different - it’s something new. Carver’s mouth is hot and soft and warm, and he looks up at his commanding officer through his eyelashes. Blackwall feels his fingers dig into the flesh on the back of Carver’s scalp out of surprise, urging him on until he takes all of the older man into his mouth.

He’s practiced. He’s _talented_. Nathaniel wasn’t kidding; he is _good_. As good as any other man or woman Blackwall’s been with during his time on the road, and he has the senior Warden rock-hard within less than a minute of being forced to his knees.

Blackwall knew he wasn’t going to last too terribly long with Carver on his knees. Blight take him, but the runt was gaining the upper hand - and that _couldn’t be allowed_. Blackwall wouldn’t be outdone by a fucking subordinate.

Still using Carver’s hair to guide him he pulled the brat off his cock. Carver licked drips of precum from his lips, moaning softly and leaning his head back into Blackwall’s touch as he stared at the man. “Was there something else you wanted, _ser_ , or shall I continue?” Oh, he was so mouthy. Such a lovely mouth popping off, too; as far as Blackwall knew, the last letters he’d gotten were about some busted-eared hot tempered kid who got rowdy at the wrong tone. Not that _this_ was much different - he still seemed just as bratty, just as obnoxious. Blackwall sneered down at him and pulled him to his feet.

“Push your pants down, bend over the desk,” he shoved Carver in the general direction of Warden-Commander Alistair’s desk. He’d never met the man but this was, supposedly, his disused office - one that Blackwall was supposed to make good use of while he was gone, since it rarely saw any these days. Blackwall would not waste a resource.

He watched the kid comply, sauntering slowly over to the heavy desk. Blackwall watched, cock in hand, as the younger Warden untied his pants and pushed them slowly down his hips. The way they slid over the swell of his ass - the slow reveal of it - made Blackwall let out an appreciative whistle.

Carver was likely smirking to himself. ‘Little bastard,’ Blackwall thought as the youngest surviving Hawke stood up on his toes and leaned balanced on his forearms on the desk. Blackwall noted that he definitely did NOT have to stand on his toes. But when he did it pushed his ass up and out for display. He even gave his hips a little shake.

“You just going to watch, old man, or have you already cum on your hand?” Carver sniped. Blackwall was already crossing the room as he spoke and the last word was barely out of his mouth before the older Warden had pressed up against his back, reached around and grabbed his chin. Carver gasped as his head was leaned back against the other man’s shoulder.

“Seems to me,” Blackwall growled into his ear, “that you’ve been taken under _ineffectual_ command, _recruit_.” From the way Blackwall had put his hand over the lower half of Carver’s face he could feel the brat’s lip turn up at the title. He quickly moved his hand to cover Carver’s mouth and held him tightly in place. “Because _good_ Wardens, _actual_ Wardens…” He let go of Carver’s face and pulled back, sticking two of his own fingers into his own mouth, getting them good and wet. After he pulled them out he put the hand that had previously been on his own prick on one of Carver’s shoulders. “Don’t mouth off to their _**betters**_.” The tips of his fingers teased Carver’s hole lightly as he spoke the last two words.

Carver let out an annoying, high pitched cackle, throwing his head backwards at that. He sighed and pushed his hips back, rubbing against Blackwall’s hand, and said, “There ain’t no one better than _me_ , you puckered old fuck.”

Blackwall smirked at the sly remark and ridiculous insult. His fingernails dug into Carver’s shoulder and he pushed a finger in, going all the way to the knuckle, savoring Carver’s delicate whine. “Is that so, _recruit_?” The older man tsk’d as he worked his finger in and out, adding the next one. Carver seemed far too giddy about it all, pushing himself back to meet Blackwall’s fingers, nails scratching the wood surface of the desk.

Once he was satisfied, Blackwall pulled his fingers out. He’d already worked up a good spit, aiming for his hand; it was lewd and not his first choice, but it wasn’t like the Warden-Commander would keep something like a spare bottle of slick around in his office and it wasn’t something Blackwall carried on his person for any dumb fucking reason.

Blackwall took hold of his cock and stepped as close to Carver as he comfortably could, pushing inside of him. He whined beautifully, so beautifully, like any good whore, and already his knees were going a little shaky. Blackwall moved both of his hands to Carver’s hips as he waited for the kid to say, “Hurry the fuck _up,_ you elderly bastard.”

“Literally,” Blackwall huffed, then laughed when Carver whined at his motionlessness. “What’s the matter, princess? Impatient?”

Carver let out a disgusted sounding 'ugh’. “Fuck. Me. _Now_.” He let his head hang forward. “Before your fucking Calling starts or something.”

Mouthy, mouthy little bitch. Blackwall made his first thrust hard and deep; it made Carver’s toes slip a bit as the desk was knocked a few centimeters forward and sent the kid scrambling to grip the other edge for balance. Blackwall had full control, now, and he took advantage with thrusts that picked up speed very quickly.

Oh, and the kid was l _oud_. Maker, shamelessly, shamelessly loud with moaning and gasps and whines and begging. Blackwall found it almost too much. He slipped the hand he’d fingered Carver with around the kid’s waist and pressed it to his pelvis as he slowed down, buried himself deep inside of Carver and just gently, agonizingly rolled his hips to the shallowest thrusts he could manage.

He leaned forward, pressing his chest to Carver’s back, and moved the hand that had been on the kid’s shoulder most of the time back around to cover his mouth. He wound up pulling the kid’s head back and licking the shell of his ear - laughing to himself at Carver’s distressed and needy whines.

“Oh, you’ll never be promoted like _this_ , whore,” he ground out.  A particularly good, hard push of his hips had Carver pressing against the desk and letting out the loudest, hardest whine he had so far. “You’re too busy enjoy the perks of being under so many people. _Good_ commanders,” he thrust a few times as hard as he could and scratched along the soft flesh on Carver’s stomach, “Good commanders _know when to take charge_.”

Then he let go of Carver’s face and leaned back, picking up the brutal pace once more. Carver’s moans started up with renewed strength and a lot of swears - especially when Blackwall reached a hand forward to take his own cock and start stroking him. For a moment he stopped fucking him and allowed Carver’s uncertainty on whether he should push back to fuck himself on Blackwall’s cock or thrust into his hand take charge. He didn’t begin again until Carver began letting out soft and needy sobs as Blackwall’s grip on his prick tightened a little.

When Blackwall came - first, and accompanied by teeth burying deep in Carver’s shoulder. His flesh all over was so tantalizingly soft and sweet the way a bloody peach was and that coupled with the sudden cry and sound of the desk scraping as the kid’s hips bucked against it was fucking _euphoric._

Carver came second with another delicious cry as Blackwall rode out his own orgasm. After he’d stopped thrusting, mostly slowed down his grinding, while Carver’s legs shook furiously from the combination of being fucked hard, cumming and staying up on his toes the whole time, Blackwall leaned forward and put his face against Carver’s spine. There he laid some kisses though it was mostly aimed at tasting his sweet, sweet skin.

“Maker’s balls, kid,” he whispered against Carver’s back. Granted it wasn’t the singularly best fuck he’d ever had but he was also damn sure that it wasn’t the best fuck Carver could offer. Still, it was fucking amazing, and he ran a hand up and down Carver’s stomach, humming against his back. He was sure in a few minutes the salty quips and smart ass tone would return tenfold but for now he savored the sweetness of silence and the feel of the air buzzing, echoing.

He’d definitely have to reprimand the little prick again, and soon , before Nathaniel and his greedy band of fucks took him away once more.

**Author's Note:**

> tell me how gross i am @ http://princetheirin.tumblr.com/


End file.
